


Altea County

by ptw30



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Coffeeshop owner!Lance, Cop!Keith, Doctor!Allura, Domestic Fluff, Firefighter!Shiro, M/M, Mechanic!Hunk, Mutual Pining, TechSupport!Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: Perhaps the sleepy little glen of Oriande in Altea County was paradise for the abandoned and discarded. Shiro, who looked to the stars, only to crash and burn. Pidge, who looked to change the world and changed theirs instead. Lance, who couldn’t find his fit but found his own little niche here. Hunk, who helped to fix their world. Allura, who healed it.And Keith, who completed it.





	1. Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless, shameless domestic fluff. I wanted to indulge and write a super, super fluffy Sheith story in a modern au/small town setting. So I did.

The annual Altea County Harvest Festival was rapidly approaching, and Shiro had been dreading asking Keith to be his date since he saw the poster on the coffeeshop’s community board almost a month prior. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had ample opportunity to ask. Keith met him on his front porch every morning, and they ran together to the Daibazaal town line and back. They ate breakfast at Lance’s coffeeshop before they went their separate ways –  Shiro to the firefighter department and Keith out to the county sheriff’s office.

He could have asked after their run. He could have asked after they finished eating. He could have asked last Friday night when they went out to the cornfield and relaxed in the tall grass, when it was just the stars, beer, and each other.

Instead, over a three-hour span, Shiro downed a full six-pack himself and allowed Keith’s tongue to steal any requests before he could formulate them.

He felt like a high schooler all over again. Even though he was an all-state football quarterback, even though he could have asked any girl to go the prom, even though he asked many people at Sendak’s bar to “come on back” to his late grandfather’s farm, he still found it difficult to ask Keith this one simple question.

“Will you go to the Harvest Festival with me?” 

Shiro choked on his bacon as Lotor, the son of Daibazaal’s most wealthy entrepreneurs, leaned an elbow against the countertop of Lance’s coffeeshop and nonchalantly asked Keith. Lance patted Shiro’s back and refilled his coffee, while simultaneously sending daggers Lotor’s way. But Lotor wasn’t deterred. He even dressed for the occasion. A tight polo shirt showcased his broad chest and chiseled biceps. Those jeans were so tight, Keith probably could have arrested him for indecent exposure, and his long hair was pulled back just so, held by his expensive sunglasses. Even Shiro could admit – Lotor was  _hot_.

Keith barely made eye contact with Lotor, jerked a shoulder, and spread butter across his burnt toast. “I’m going with Shiro.”

That was it. No sputtering or blushing. It was like he didn’t even give it a thought. He just answered factually and then took a bite of his toast. He did give pause when Lance dumped two strawberry scones on his plate, along with another helping of those cheesy grits Keith always devoured.

“What’s this for?” he demanded but immediately dug in.

“Ah. Just had a few extras from the morning batch Hunk whipped up,” Lance said with a cheerful smile. “Come back tonight. We might have some warm ones.”

Lotor left not long after, and Shiro and Keith followed.

Shiro paused by a pick-up truck that had seen a better decade – or two – and reached out to grab Keith hand. He usually pulled Keith into a sweet but chaste kiss, but he stopped just before doing so, fingers tapping Keith’s hips.

“Thank you. You…You didn’t have to say ‘no’ to Lotor, though. You could’ve –” 

“Gone with him to the Harvest Festival?” Keith stared at Shiro like he had two heads and was not impressed by either. “We’ve been together for a year now. Why would I go with anyone else?”

Shiro bit his bottom lip, and his eyes glanced down at his right hand – his metal hand. Keith covered it instantly and squeezed. “Hey. That’s just one of your many charms.”

“But – the whole county will be there.”

“So?”

“So…you sure you want to be seen with – it’s just…you have so much to offer, and instead you settle – ”

“Stop that.” Keith’s hands slid up Shiro’s arms and over his tight shoulders to reach Shiro’s cheeks. “I want  _you_. There’s no settling there.”

“Yeah, but you’re from the – ”

“ – if you say ‘big city,’ I will throttle you.”

Shiro snapped his mouth shut, but the nagging thoughts lingered. How could Keith ever want a volunteer firefighter who spent most of his day pumping out water from cellars or helping cats get down from trees or working on what was left of his grandfather’s farm and every so often consulting for Professor Holt and Commander Iverson out at the university. How could Keith ever be satisfied with  _this_  after he came from  _that_?

As if sensing his discomfort, Keith pushed up to press his forehead against Shiro’s. “I’m going to spend the next eight hours writing speeding tickets on Highway 75 or corralling one of Trugg’s cows again. The demon one, probably.”

“A cow can’t be a demon.”

“You haven’t met this one!” Keith yelled before relaxing again. “I’ll probably have to call Hunk to tow Coran’s car or pick up Haxus after he passes out at Sendak’s bar. And if I’m lucky, Thace will let me use the siren to wake him up this time.”

Shiro laughed, and Keith pulled him closer, until their lips almost touched. “And y’know what? It’s…perfect,” he added, almost too low for Shiro to catch.  _“It’s all perfect.”_

Shiro found it hard to believe, but he did believe it. He might not have known everything about Keith’s past, but he knew enough that perhaps the sleepy little glen of Oriande in Altea County was paradise for the abandoned and discarded. Shiro, who looked to the stars, only to crash and burn. Pidge, who looked to change the world and changed theirs instead. Lance, who couldn’t find his fit but found his own little niche here. Hunk, who helped to fix their world. Allura, who healed it.

And Keith, who completed it.

Shiro savored the gift of Keith’s affection, one arm about Keith’s waist and the other around his back. The embrace was tender but true, a claiming of sorts as Keith pressed against him and tightened his hold, fingers dipping into Shiro’s hair and pulling him even closer.

A loud honk startled them both, and Pidge pushed herself halfway out of Hunk’s car to yell, “Get a room!”

Shiro shook his head, watching them drive by, before turning back to the grinning Keith. “Just know that if you give her a ticket, you won’t be able to log-on to Wi-Fi for the next week.”

Keith grumbled and turned toward his bike, “Fine. Take all the fun out of my job.”

“Hey.” Shiro tugged on Keith’s hand and drew him back. “You think you can be ten minutes late? I got a new liner for the truck bed. Maybe we can break it in where the high schoolers usually go.”

Keith’s face brightened again. “It’s not like I’m employee of the month or anything.”

It was closer to thirty minutes before something banged against the side of the truck, which was parked a bit off the road by Galra Gouge. “This is not how I wanted to start my day, kid,” Thace groused. “Now, get your pants on. Trugg’s cows are loose again. We gotta get ‘im before someone wants beef for dinner.”

Against his neck, Shiro murmured, “Perfect, you say?”

Keith did, in fact, throttle him.


	2. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith learns the "ancient" history of Altea County.

Shiro dropped the news one evening as they walked back from the town bonfire, down the long dirt road that led to the Shirogane Farmstead. They probably should have driven, but Keith liked the quiet night stroll and Shiro looked up at the stars as if he were eyeing one of Lance’s crème pies. 

Through the low hum of evening, Shiro whispered, “I’m having some work done on the main house and the manager’s residence.” Or Keith’s quarters. It was a rather large house on the back of the property, and the master bedroom itself was larger than any apartment Keith had ever lived in. 

“I’d invite you to stay in one of the smaller cottages,” Shiro continued, “but I haven’t aired them out in years.”

Keith shrugged. “It’s all right. I’ll bunk on Kolivan’s couch. It’ll be like high school all over again.” 

Not the greatest memories, but that was when Keith had his first stable home in almost a decade. After being shuffled between foster homes, Kolivan’s place became one of comfort and solace. But Kolivan picked him up from school every day in the squad car, sat next to him to make sure he completed his homework, and made the couch Keith’s living space. Though he would always be grateful for the home Kolivan gave him, Keith appreciated his own space now. Of course, he didn’t mind when Shiro stopped by and spent the night. Shiro’s warm body was a comforting presence at night and his smile a gift to wake up to in the morning. 

Shiro tossed him a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his head. “I spoke with Pidge and had her reserve one of the inn’s suites for you.”

“What? No!” Keith shoved his shaking hands into his front pockets. “You didn’t have do to that. Really. I can –”

“I think Pidge would rather you not. She mentioned something about Matt being away and needing help fixing the front porch or something. But if you’d rather drive all the way to the county seat, then I can – ”

Keith shrugged his shoulders, hoping the night hid his blush. “Nah. I mean, if Pidge needs help, then I guess it’s better if I stay with her.”

“It’ll only be a few days,” Shiro assured, wrapping his arm about Keith’s shoulders and drawing him close. “Then you can come home.”

 _Home._ Keith liked the feel of the word under his skin. He had only applied it to his father’s place, Kolivan’s apartment, and now the Shirogane Farmstead. 

He packed up his stuff and took it to town the next day after his and Shiro’s morning run. It wasn’t a large building – only three floors and less rooms than a baker’s dozen – but the old place had turn-of-the-century charm with refreshed amenities. When Keith came down the quarter-turned stairs into the lobby the next morning, Pidge looked like an anachronism with her feet up on the antique oak front desk, laptop balanced on her thighs, green buds tucked inside her earlobes. 

“Nah, he stayed on the farm,” Pidge said in a quiet voice when he asked if she’d seen Shiro. “He won’t be passing through anytime soon.” 

But Shiro – and Keith – ran through the middle of town every day on the way to the Daibazaal town line. No doubt, Shiro would be along eventually, so Keith headed out to the inn’s porch to stretch and wait. 

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Two hours. Shiro never showed. He wasn’t at Lance’s either when Keith arrived for breakfast, but Allura and Hunk joined him, bookending him at the counter. 

“So what type of work is Shiro getting done on the farm?” he asked between bites of grits and scone. “Did he tell you guys?”

Their little world came to a screeching halt when the three stared at him with varying degrees of horror and dismay. They only snapped out of their trance when Lance overpoured Hunk’s coffee cup. 

“Sheesh!” 

_“Keith,”_ Allura began in a soft, consoling tone. She draped her hand across his and squeezed. “I’m…sure Shiro will tell you when he’s – ”

“No,” Lance interrupted. “No offense, Allura, but it’s going to be all over town today. Keith should hear it from us.”

“Hear what?” he asked. 

Lance’s voice was thick with emotion, his eyes dark and somber as he wiped up the mess. “Look, Keith – Grandad Shirogane died today. About a handful of years ago.”

Keith had only heard of the man in stories and saw him in the pictures that hung in the Shirogane Farmhouse. He looked quite a bit like Shiro, tall and broad, and dressed in worn jeans, a dark undershirt, and a terrible plaid jacket. A subdued smile seemed to linger upon his worn face, with ample ridges about his mouth and eyes. 

A good-natured laugh and reminiscent smiles accompanied the man’s name. The tone of the conversation would then always turn sorrowful and sad, but before Keith received any explanation, Shiro abandoned Grandad Shirogane to the past again. 

With Allura and Hunk adding commentary, Lance gave the Cliffnotes version of Altea County’s ancient history – how Shiro’s family settled the region with Allura’s family and Zarkon’s, how they built Oriande and Daibazaal from the ground up, and how Grandad Shirogane wasn’t just Shiro’s grandfather. 

“He was really all of ours,” Lance said. “His farm used to employ half the town. Everyone either worked for Grandad Shirogane or was related to someone who did. And he wasn’t just into farming. Grandad Shirogane built houses, gave out loans, pretty much took care of the town.”

A duty he bequeathed to his grandson. 

“So…what happened?” Keith ventured to ask but shuddered to know the answer. Shiro had said no one occupied the manager’s house – and the farmstead – for more than a handful of years. 

“Changes in the economy, drought, industry innovation,” Hunk said as he dipped his mini-muffins into a strawberry jam. “He couldn’t keep the farm running. Instead of just laying everyone off, he used what wherever assets were left to help everyone find new jobs.”

Lance thumbed over his shoulder toward the back end of Oriande. “Sendak used to run the grain production. Lived in the same house you do. He was like a second father to Shiro growing up. Grandad Shirogane sold off a piece of his land to Zarkon and gave Sendak the money to open his bar.” 

Hm. Now it made sense why Shiro spent every Sunday down at the Commander’s Bar & Grill, sometimes pulling drinks, other times just chewing the cud with the old man. 

“Trugg took all the cows and branched out with her own milk operation.” 

Her farm sat in the valley over from the Shirogane Farmstead, and Shiro brought Keith there many times to lie in the grass and just look up at the stars. 

They rattled off people in town, one after another who used to work for the Shirogane Farm and found new ways to live in the glen. Ladnock, Antok, Morvok. Even Hunk’s boss, Coran, started as a farm mechanic before opening his garage. 

“It should have devastated the town when the Shirogane Farm went under, but it didn’t,” Allura said, her clear blue eyes now clouded with sorrow. “Instead, thanks to Grandad Shirogane’s wisdom and kindness, he breathed a second life into the town’s economy.” 

“And only had to sacrifice his own business to do it,” Keith replied, pushing the plate away. He was no longer hungry. 

“Maybe, but Grandad Shirogane always said he owed everything to the town and its people,” Lance said, smooth and easy. “So he felt he should give it back to them.”

“And Shiro?” Keith asked, voice strangled.

“Never wanted the farm.” Hunk picked the spare bacon off his plate. “He always looked to the stars. I think he felt a bit…guilty, that he couldn’t carry on his grandfather’s legacy through it, but he does in another way.”

Taking care of the town, helping where he can, acting as the defacto mayor. 

“So…what happened to Grandad Shirogane?”

A moment of silence passed through the group before Lance managed to say, “Nothing traumatic or anything. He was just having breathing problems and…didn’t make it. Messed us all up, but it rocked Shiro pretty badly.”

Tears shimmered in Allura’s eyes, and it took her a moment to compose herself. “Shiro was studying at the university and came home as soon as Thace called him, but one of Trugg’s cows got loose, found its way onto Highway 75. Shiro was speeding on his bike, and…”

They didn’t need to finish. Shiro didn’t make it in time, and he also lost his arm – and his dreams for space. All in one day. 

Keith threw a few bills on the counter, enough to cover Allura’s and Hunk’s meals, too, and got back on his own bike. He drove a bit slower than was necessary, from the highway onto the back roads of Altea County, and slowly and surely made it to the Shirogane Farmstead. The main house was empty, save for a few random beer bottles on the coffee table and scraps of what might have passed as breakfast. 

Keith detoured to his house, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, and took off in search of Shiro. It didn’t take long to find him, up the small grassy hill near the golden and rouge oak trees. They were about halfway to Trugg’s place, close to a depilated rock wall, by the cornfield where Ranveig created the town’s maze every autumn. Keith looked back over his shoulder and marveled at how he could see almost the entire farmstead. 

Shiro was sprawled at Keith’s feet, his arms and legs stretched out in a bed of grass. He appeared close to death when Keith leaned over him, eyes closed and breathing shallow. His exhaustion showed through the crinkled skin under his eyes and the stubble upon his chin. An empty beer bottle rested near his hand. 

There was only one response. “You swerved not to hit the demon cow.”

Shiro didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “You don’t know it was the same cow.”

“It was Kaltenecker,” Keith said with a tired sigh and fell cross-legged to the grass. “Gotta be. No other cow likes the road so damn much.”

Silence enveloped them again, and as Keith amused himself by picking the dandelions, Shiro cracked open his eyes. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Keith let out a quiet laugh. “I kinda think I should be the only one who does.”

His tears glistened in the bright sunlight of noon. “He was everyone’s grandad, not just mine.”

“Yeah, but he was your grandfather.” Keith reached out to thread his fingers with Shiro’s and give a gentle squeeze. “You’re allowed to mourn, Shiro.”

The tears streamed down Shiro’s flushed face and dripped into the grass. “You should go now.”

Keith lied next to him and coaxed Shiro on top of him, resting Shiro’s head upon his chest. “March 23rd.”

Shiro stiffened. 

“It was the day my dad left me,” Keith murmured, lips buried in Shiro’s wayward locks. “You can see me all angry and hurt and everything else, on March 23rd.”

Shiro’s arms came around Keith’s torso and clung tightly. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Good.”

The sobs came fiercely then, soaking the front of Keith’s shirt and shuddering his own body. Keith didn’t try to shush Shiro or deter him. Sometimes, people just needed to have a good cry, and Keith wanted to give Shiro anything he needed, even if it was just a soft place to bury his face and hide from the world. 

It took some time for Shiro’s tears to dry, though his grip remained strong, arms tight about Keith’s midsection. He seemed to find a comfortable perch in Keith’s chest, and Keith cherished the quiet moments, carding his fingers through Shiro’s longer locks. They stayed in silence for a long time before Shiro sat up to gaze down at the entire farmstead. Keith watched him closely, observing the troubled emotions flashed through Shiro’s expression – grief, regret, hope, and finally resignation. 

Shiro turned to Keith, eye red-rimmed, cheeks wet and stained, but a tiny smile twitched on the edge of his lips. He motioned toward the large, worn farmhouse, the dull red stall-barns, and the silent commercial silos. “I loved growing up here, Keith. Back then, the farm was alive with energy. So much to do, so many people. Grandad had two major operations – dairy and grain production. Trugg ran the dairy production, and Sendak was in charge of the grain. But we had everything – some horses, chickens, even a few sheep.”

“So this was where the grain production took place?”

Shiro nodded. “Our land actually stretched all the way to Daibazaal originally, with wheat and corn and barley growing. But Grandad sold off most of it to give as severance. These buildings, and a few acres off that way – ” He pointed to the left of the valley. “—and a handful of acres behind us are all that’s left.” 

His usually strong voice shook at the end, but he recovered, gesturing toward Keith’s house and a few other houses, along with smaller, personal-sized cottages that took up the left side of the farmstead. “That’s where the farmhands who lived on the property stayed. New folks, mostly, who came to work for Grandad who didn’t know the area. They eventually moved into their own homes, usually a year or two after coming. Only Sendak and Trugg really lived on property all the time. 

“It used to be my job – when I was really little – to wake them up in the morning. I’d set my alarm for four A.M. and then race to their homes before knocking on all the cottages. By the time I got back to the main house, Grandad would already be up and making coffee for the early risers.

“When I got older, Grandad used to send me to Sendak and Trugg to do ‘anything they tell you.’ My job was to help. That was it. They needed some feed? I got them some feed. They needed an extra tractor? I went for the tractor. If a farmhand needed a new shirt? I got it. Someone needed to clean out the cow’s muck? That was me.”

Keith gazed down at the depilated farm and smiled as it seemed to come alive. The red paint upon the barn was fresh and vibrant. The amber and sage fields boasted crops ready to be harvested. The buzz of tractors, the low-pitched bellows of farm animals, and the quick snap of managers’ orders made it all the way to Keith’s ears, and he could just imagine young Shiro, dark hair and growing muscles, running through the dirt corridors and greeting the workers he passed. He wore a bright smile that split his face as he went about his various tasks, eager to help and eager to please.

“What did your Grandad do?” Keith asked, curious. 

Shiro’s smile grew. “Just what he told me to do. He worked finances and helped with the business end, but he also got down to the dirt and did whatever Sendak or Trugg needed. He might have owned the farm, but they ran it. 

“ ‘Lead by example,’ Grandad used to tell me,” Shiro explained, giving his tone a deep, rough edge. “ ‘Take care of people, treat them right, and they’ll do the same to you.’” His smile fell then, but it managed to cling to the corner of Shiro’s lips. “Every Friday at sundown, we’d pitch a tent, pull out the picnic tables and fill them to celebrate another successful week. Even after I went to university, I’d try to come every week. The first time, Grandad refused to let me partake until I worked at least an hour on the farm. ‘You have to contribute to the success in order to celebrate it,’ he said. After that, we struck a deal that I could celebrate if I worked a few hours over the weekend.”

“Sounds like a hard man,” Keith said. 

“He wasn’t an easy one,” Shiro admitted. “But he was a good one. And a fair one. That hour he made me work? He and Sendak worked alongside me, asking about my classes and seeing when they could visit.” 

A cool breeze blew through the valley, ruffling the tall grass and freeing a few of the leaves. As they flew in front of Keith’s face, he pushed back his hair from his eyes to see the bustling farmstead fade from sight. All that remained was a pitiful memorial to the once great farm that brought life to the land and the town. 

A crestfallen expression swept across Shiro’s face as he left the past, and Keith wasn’t so bold as to hope his presence helped to ease some of Shiro’s pain. Still, he slipped his hand into Shiro’s and was rewarded when Shiro held it in return. 

“I know it wasn’t perfect,” Shiro finally whispered, raw and hoarse in a way Keith had only heard during their intimate moments. “I just – I always thought the farm would last forever. I always thought Grandad would…be here. It’s not like I didn’t know death happens. My parents _died_ before I could remember them, but – the farm had been here forever and Grandad along with it.”

Keith’s inherence from his father had been a blade and a small shack in the desert that he eventually sold to pay for college. Shiro’s grandad left him a tomb of memories and a handful of acres that sat unused, wasting away into nothing. And yet – 

“Your grandad lives on, right? You take care of the town, just like he did.”

Shiro let out a loud sigh, though there was a kind relief to it. “Oriande is my hometown. It always will be, and the people here are my extended family. A select few are immediate.” He winked at Keith. “I’m glad to help out where I can.”

“You never regret being here?” Keith didn’t. Oriande was his home now, and he enjoyed the small group of people he came to acknowledge, if only to himself, as family. But Shiro never wanted the farm, and his dreams looked to take him as far away from Oriande as possible. 

“Sam – Pidge’s dad – used to give these lectures at the library every few weeks,” Shiro said. “I went to every single one as a kid growing up. I wanted to go to space. I wanted to study astrophysics and touch the cosmos themselves, just like Sam described, and Grandad encouraged me every step of the way.”

There was nothing for Keith to say to that, as he held Shiro’s metal arm and the reason he couldn’t continue his studies and finally achieve his dream. Shiro’s fingers tightened, though, and his voice took a lofty, thoughtful tone. 

“But I’m not mad about what happened that night on the highway.”

How could he not be?

“I think – I think a part of me will always wonder what it would have been like to go into space,” Shiro continued, a line forming between his eyes, “but I don’t regret not getting there or trying to get to see Grandad one last time. I wish I would have made it, but – life here – it’s good. I’m…happy. And if I would have still been at university or out at the garrison – I might not have met you.”

Keith couldn’t stop himself from smiling, and when Shiro cocked his head to return the grin, Keith fell backwards and beckoned Shiro to follow him. Shiro obliged, once more wrapping his arms about Keith’s torso and resting his head on Keith’s chest. 

He sent prickles through Keith’s body, from the top of head to the curl of his toes, when he murmured, “And I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Keith slipped his fingertips under Shiro’s chin and lifted, so Shiro would meet his eyes. “I would have liked to have met Grandad Shirogane.”

“I think he would have liked you very much.” 

When they kissed, it was tender and light, a softer version of their usual heated embraces but an admission of trust and affection. Here, they didn’t need to hide or fear. Here, they could be broken and lost and scared. In each other’s arms, they were treasured and loved. 

They breathed through their noses to continue, unwilling to break even for a few moments of sweet, country air. The cool late autumn wind ruffled the grass and their hair, and in the distance, a car backfired and a horse neighed. Keith pressed his forehead against Shiro’s once they dared to part, hand caressing the side of Shiro’s cheek. 

“You want to stay here longer?”

“Yeah.”

“All right.”

Keith reached for his phone and sent out a quick text message to Lance and Allura before surrendering to his new role as Shiro’s security pillow. The sun’s bright rays kept them warm into the afternoon as Shiro dozed and Keith kept silent vigil. When the sun began to set, Shiro groaned and buried his face in Keith’s shirt again. 

“I – I don’t want to go back to the house tonight.”

“You can come back with me to the inn if you want, but that might disappoint the town.” 

Shiro must have heard the light-hearted tone in his voice because he pushed up onto his elbows, pinning Keith with a suspicious glower, before glancing over his shoulder. His arms slowly climbed backwards until he sat on his haunches, mouth agape at the valley ablaze below them. 

The tractors had been pulled out from where they’d sat gathering rust, and were used to light the area between the largest barn and the main house. There, the townsfolk heaved a large blue and yellow tent and began to dress the picnic tables with dishes from the main house. 

Keith savored the moments that Shiro’s once exhausted and crestfallen expression lifted into something akin to surprise and elation, and as he stood, Keith followed. Shiro glanced back at him once, an obvious question upon his face, and Keith simply shrugged and urged him forward with a few pushes. 

Shiro parted the tall grass as he made his way down to the celebration, his legs pumping harder until he almost ran. He slowed when approaching the tent, as if almost afraid to enter, but then Allura came to his side. She offered a hand and pulled him into a hug, whispering something into his ear. Shiro barely held back the tears as she led him under the tent and into the Friday night celebration. 

Sendak swung an arm about Shiro’s shoulders and ruffled his hair before Pidge almost bowled him over. Lance and Hunk simultaneously smothered him from opposite sides, refusing to let go until he laughed. Matt and Sam, Trugg and Olia, Kolivan, Antok, Ladnock, and even Lotor and Axca came with Ezor, Narti, and Zethrid. 

By the time Keith filled his plate and took a seat between Lance and Thace, he’d finished his mental tally. The entire town had come. 

The food came and went, but the celebration continued. Clusters of people stood off to the side, talking and laughing and drinking, while a makeshift dance floor formed just outside the tent. Shiro eventually drew Keith outside, fingers curled into the belt hoops of Keith’s jeans. Keith stepped between Shiro’s boots, hips cant to fit against Shiro’s to bring them closer, foreheads pressed together. 

The glint in Shiro’s eyes was too emotional, too true. Keith looked directly into Shiro’s soul. 

“Thank you,” Shiro said before his eyes slid shut and his face relaxed. “I – I don’t know…how I can ever…what you did – ”

Keith silenced him with a kiss, long and heated, tongue stroking over Shiro’s lips and tasting the lingering flavors of cheap beer and apple pie. With a nip upon Shiro’s bottom lip, he pulled away to whisper, “Don’t lie to me again. And if you’re not on the porch in the morning for our run, then it should only be because you’re lying next to me. All right?”

Shiro smiled and stole a chaste kiss from Keith’s lips. “Yeah. That means you’ll have to share a bed with me.”

“We do that at least three nights a week.”

“We could make it every night.”

Keith cupped Shiro’s cheeks, thumbs brushing back and forth across the high cheekbones. “Hey. Let’s talk about it in the morning, all right? It’s not good to make hasty decisions.”

“You don’t think I –”

“You might change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t. 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems this particular AU didn’t resonate with people, so I’m just going to cut it off here. Thanks to everyone who read. 
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr.


End file.
